


Negotiations

by PoeticallyIrritating



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-24
Updated: 2014-02-24
Packaged: 2018-01-13 16:22:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1233187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoeticallyIrritating/pseuds/PoeticallyIrritating
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarah goes in with no plan, no gun, nothing but the energy vibrating through her, making her hands shake. (She still has Beth’s gun but she doesn’t think she can ever use it again. She will tear Rachel apart with her fingernails if she has to.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Negotiations

Sarah goes in with no plan, no gun, nothing but the energy vibrating through her, making her hands shake. (She still has Beth’s gun but she doesn’t think she can ever use it again. She will tear Rachel apart with her fingernails if she has to.)

She bursts into the building while the security guards have been waylaid by a Cosima-designed distraction involving chemistry. It’s impossible to burst into Rachel’s office, though. Rachel can see her coming from a long way off.

She doesn’t call for security. She doesn’t call for anyone.

Their eyes lock before Sarah is halfway across the room.

Rachel remains silent until Sarah reaches her desk. “How can I help you?” she says. Her voice is devastatingly calm; Sarah’s skin burns with rage.

“I want my family back.” She can’t keep her voice from shaking.

“We’ve discussed this previously, Sarah,” says Rachel. Did her lips twitch, or did Sarah blink? Was that a smile? She thinks she has so much _power_ and it makes every muscle in Sarah’s body clench up. “If you sign the contract, you can have everything you want.”

“Fuck your contract. Your contract is bullshit.”

Rachel stands and smooths her skirt. “If that’s how you feel, I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do for you.”

“I’m not leaving.” Her whole body is shaking now. She’s never been more angry in her life. “You _took my family._ I want Kira, and I want Siobhan.” She stands too, matching Rachel’s height. “And I want DYAD out of my life. For good.”

“You’re not exactly in a position to be making demands,” says Rachel. Slow steps in black pumps echo in the empty room. She walks toward the window.

Sarah follows her. She refuses to sit while Rachel stands or be left waiting at the desk like a child.They’re the same height but Sarah feels small. She convinces herself that it’s the heels.

“You have nothing to offer me in return,” Rachel says. She’s turned around to look at Sarah. Her lips move into that half-smile again—it’s definitely there this time—and Sarah _hates._

She hates Rachel’s impeccably applied lipstick and the mouth that it accentuates; she hates Rachel’s dress and its expensive fabric and she hates that Rachel’s face looks like hers but so much more in control and she hates _everything._ She shakes now with hatred instead of rage.

Three steps and she’s close enough to smash her lips onto Rachel’s, more like an attack than a kiss. Rachel’s back hits the window hard and Sarah doesn’t so much as slow down. She bites down on Rachel’s lower lip and pulls at the dress with both hands; hums with satisfaction when she hears a seam rip.

Something snaps in Rachel at the sound; her body jerks into action under Sarah’s hands. She grabs Sarah’s waist—pushes—turns—and then Sarah’s breath catches and she is the one pinned against the window.

Sarah has only a moment to see Rachel’s unsettling, ambiguous expression before there are _teeth_ , biting hard into the soft skin of her neck, and her face is hot from rage and maybe too from the mouth on her neck and the nails digging into her back.

She finds purchase in Rachel’s dress again and one hand grabs, tearing seams, while the other hand finds the zipper and pulls it down with as much force as she can manage as Rachel’s tongue moves where she was biting moments before. It stings and Sarah realizes she must be bleeding, and Rachel’s mouth—

Sarah pulls harder and one last seam splits. Rachel’s dress falls inelegantly to the floor. Rachel halts for just long enough that Sarah sees her eyes grow darker and harder.

Sarah grabs, holds, bites whatever she can reach, hoping to break skin, even the score. But Rachel is purposeful, methodical. Her hand slips beneath Sarah’s waistband and Sarah can’t—focus—her hands scrape against Rachel’s back and she bites down on Rachel’s shoulder and she _cannot let go_ because if she makes a single sound Rachel has won.

Rachel thrusts her roughly against the window and her head hits it; her mouth falls open. She moans and the sound hits her ears like a betrayal.

She opens her eyes and Rachel is _smirking._


End file.
